Lukar Jam: Prisoner of Conscience

posted Oct 5, 2015, 7:58 PM by The Tibetan Political Review

By Jamyang Norbu (Oct. 3, 2015)

Some exile Tibetans are angry with Sikyong candidate Lukar Jam Atsok
for criticizing HH’s policies. He has not only been attacked in speech
and writing but also on video, in one of which the accuser bursts into
tears and dramatically sobs out his condemnation.

A specific accusation against Lukar is that he once talked about His
Holiness as “la-gyen” or the “old lama”. Of course, this is not the
usual way to refer to the Dalai Lama, and it is not exactly respectful,
but on the other hand it is also definitely not hostile. One might even
say Lukar’s la-gyen reference is affectionate, in an informal sort of
way. Like Englishmen (of yesteryear) calling each other “old boy” or
“old chap”. Of course older Tibetans would say that Lukar Jam was being
too forward, in a socially inappropriate way (nangtsa tsa drapa), and
perhaps they have a point.

But we should bear in mind that Lukar Jam does not come from the
honorific filled world of old Lhasa, or the “culturally subservient”
world of exile Tibetans where children are trained from infancy to sing
nursery rhymes in praise of His Holiness. Lukar Jam was a nomad boy
from Chabcha, playing with sheep, and probably singing paeans to
Chairman Mao in his local elementary school.

We should also never lose sight of the fact that after his first
escape to India in 1991, Lukar Jam returned home to Amdo with as many
copies of the Dalai Lama’s My Land and My People as he could carry, a
videotape of a speech the Dalai Lama made when he accepted the Nobel
Peace Prize in 1989 and human rights documents including some sixty
copies of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

It was very dangerous thing to do but Lukar explains: “I
carried the books and videotape home because people, especially older
people, wanted to see the Dalai Lama. They often prayed they would see
him in Tibet. I knew the books and tape would bring happiness to them.
Tibetans don’t know about the Universal Declaration, and I thought that
if I distributed copies it might help them to understand.” Perhaps
Lukar’s critics should ask themselves if they had ever taken such a risk
on the Dalai Lama’s behalf?

Lukar Jam was arrested a year later, for this and for other crimes
against the state. The Haixi Intermediate People’s Court sentenced
Lukhar Jam to an eight-year term for “espionage” and ten more years for
“organizing and leading a counterrevolutionary clique.” The full account
of Lukar’s and his friends Tsegon Gyal and Namlo Yak dangerous
undertakings for the cause of Tibetan freedom is in the detailed Human Rights Watch report
I have linked here.[1] For those few exiles spreading the rumor that Lukar
was arrested for stealing a yak, it should be pointed out that
CTA-backed Tibetan Center for Human Rights & Democracy at Gangchen
Kyisong (TCHRD) in their publication of November 1997 caries a Profile
Article “Sentenced to 17 Years for Espionage” which makes it clear that
Lukar Jam was charged with “endangering national security”, and being a
spy for an “external espionage organization” (almost certainly the
Tibetan government in exile).

In prison he underwent unceasing and relentless interrogation, sleep
deprivation, starvation rations, painfully tight handcuffs and leg
shackles, and endless beatings “I was beaten and tortured with every
kind of technique. They used cattle prods. My body swelled so much that
my pants tore when I tried to put them on, but they didn’t give me new
ones.” Lukar was soon seriously ill and rapidly lost weight. His
abdomen became painfully distended and he developed a serious lung
disorder. After four years in prison he was clearly dying. The
prefectural hospital told the high court that Lukhar Jam was beyond
their help, and there was no hope of him recovering. The chief of the
detention center refused to take responsibility if Lukar Jam died in
prison. After much nightmarish bureaucratic wrangling he was granted
medical parole, if his family paid all his medical expenses. Lukar was
in prison for fours years. When he was finally released, he could not
stand, much less walk, unaided. He weighed 37 kgs (81 lbs). This is
somewhat better than Holocaust survivors, whose average weight was
around 60 lbs. The Americans who survived the Bataan “Death March” and
Japanese POW camps, the “walking skeletons”, were said on average to
weigh about 90 lbs.

The above photograph was taken a few months after he had put on a
little weight. When someone posted it on Facebook one idiot commented
that the photograph was faked because the face and neck looked darker
than the body. I posted a reply where I noted that in such photographs
the face and neck are usually darker as they are more exposed to the sun
than the torso which is usually covered with a shirt or jacket. Someone
else remarked that Lukar Jam’s imprisonment had happened a long time
ago and that he and his supporters should get over it. Lukar himself
does not talk much about his prison experience. If you’ve listened to
his campaign speeches you’ll note that he practically makes no reference
to it at all. I think I know why.

These days when trendy liberal types in the West talk about
overcoming tragedy and loss, they insist on using the facile word
“closure.” Whether it’s the death of a loved one, a national
catastrophe, or more often than not, a divorce, closure is supposed to
be what we need to heal and get on with our lives. But if you survive
something truly horrendous, the reality is that there is no such thing
as closure. Nightmares never end in the real world.

Some years ago (2010, I think it was) I was at a talk given by two of
(the fourteen) “singing nuns of Drapchi ” who in prison secretly
recorded songs that described their suffering in prison, demanded
freedom for Tibet and praised the Dalai Lama. Ngawang Sangdrol and
Choeying Kunsang, told their harrowing story to a young audience of
largely SFT members, and quietly described the horrendous price they
paid for their defiance of Chinese authority. At the conclusion of the
talk someone asked this question. “Have you managed to get over it all?
Do you sometimes remember your terrible experience in prison?”

I think it was Choeying la who replied, in a voice so soft that it was barely audible: “Every night when I fall asleep I dream of being back in prison.” My blood ran cold.

This is why I feel Lukar Jam would make a good leader. There is no
“closure” for him on this most vital of issues. He will never forget
what the Chinese did to him, and by extension what they did to Tibet.

Samdhong Rinpoche may complain to the Indian press about new-arrivals
from Tibet being violent, but I think that new arrivals, especially
political prisoners, could make an invaluable contribution to exile
politics with their hard-earned experience of suffering under the
Chinese. Hence I have no hesitation in saying that it is criminal, I
repeat, criminal of CTA officials to try and reeducate (sometimes even
pressure) arriving political prisoners in Dharamshala, to give up their
commitment to the cause for which they were tortured and incarcerated,
and instead adopt and advocate the official policy that Tibet should be
part of the PRC.

I also believe that Tibetan political prisoners do not merely exist
to be trotted around the corridors of the US Congress or the European
Union to drum-up more funding for the CTA or ICT; and that our duty to
them does not somehow become fulfilled when we sing their praises as
“heroes” and arrange an audience or two for them with the Dalai Lama. It
is vital for us to recognize that these are individuals, unique
individuals with a political vision that most of us in exile have lost a
long time ago. It is that political vision and experience, and their
courage and commitment to stand up and speak out for it which now makes
the likes of Lukar Jam, and also Ngawang Sangdrol, Golok Jigme,
Phuntsok Wangchuk, Choeying Kunsang and many other prisoners of
conscience the ideal leaders for the Tibetan struggle in this darkest
moment in our long history.